<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>before the summer storm by SaltyPistachio</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635679">before the summer storm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyPistachio/pseuds/SaltyPistachio'>SaltyPistachio</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:54:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635679</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyPistachio/pseuds/SaltyPistachio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Casta has a long day.</p><p> </p><p>or</p><p> </p><p>prelude to 'growing only happens on your own'</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>pre-Juliet/Castaspella (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>before the summer storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this was not beta'd so any and all mistakes are on me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Casta had been through a long day. She had woken up earlier than usual to deal with a break-in at Mystacor’s Ballet Conservatory that had turned out to be Norwyn mixing up the door’s passcode. Then there were the classes she had to teach in what was possibly the hottest room of the building. The air conditioning had given out the day before and it had yet to be fixed, which Casta had been greatly annoyed by and had made several comments on until she had been reminded that calling the air conditioning repair company had been her job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her students had been sluggish and she had grown snappish. She hadn’t realized how quickly the day had gone by until Catra tentatively poked her head in and asked if Casta was still willing to give her a ride to her therapist’s. Casta practically chased her dancers out of the room and hopped in the car with Catra, driving like she was in one of those action movies Micah loved so much. She had just dropped Catra off when she got a call from one of the administrators from the conservatory that a ‘Ms. Weaver was waiting for her in her office’. Which meant that Casta had to go back to deal with that old hag and then pick up her foster daughter once more and drop her off at home. Where she only had enough time to grab a banana before she was out the door and headed to her lawyer’s office, where she sought advice on the new situation concerning her foster daughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All she wanted to do when she got home was break out her boxed wine (no matter what Angella said, if it was put through the filter it tasted like regular wine and Casta would stand by that) and curl up on the couch to watch some trashy rom-com. Maybe she could get Catra to come down and talk to her. If she was really lucky, they could even share a meal together. However, when she pulled into the driveway she saw the girl sitting on the front steps of the house, wildly gesturing as she spoke on the phone. When Casta got out of the car, she sprung up, eyes wide and panicked. “I’ve got to go,” she hissed into the phone, “call you later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Catra,” Casta called out, confused and a little worried, “is everything alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” the girl ran her fingers through her loose, curly hair. “But no, not exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened? Are you hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl stood very still and her gaze darted all over the front yard before she took a deep breath and locked her gaze with Casta’s. “I was in the attic looking for some of your old tapes that you mentioned. I thought I could compare my technique to yours…” she trailed off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Casta felt a smile overtake her face. She was always pleased when the girl showed interest in her art. Catra was talented — Casta dared to call her a prodigy — but she was not as dedicated as Casta hoped she would be. She shut down all conversations Casta brought up about ballet unless they were at the studio. Casta nodded at her encouragingly to continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Melog followed me, I guess. He was really into the water bed you had up there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Casta felt her eyes begin to narrow. “I see...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He popped it,” Catra blurted out. “He popped it and I am so, so sorry. I should have been paying more attention, I know. I’ll pay for any of the damages, I swear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Casta laid a soothing hand on the frantic girl’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Catra. It was an accident. I should have gotten rid of that years ago, but I honestly forgot about it.” She guided Catra to the front door. “As long as nobody was hurt, there’s nothing to worry about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as she opened the door, there was a loud noise that rumbled along the house and Casta saw it all unfold in slow-motion. The dripping water from the hallway’s ceiling turned into a flood as the ceiling cracked open and crumbled on the entrance floor. The picture frames lining the wall rattled and some fell while others managed to hold on. Her family’s vase, which had been passed down from generation to generation, the one she fought so hard for with Micah, tumbled down from the table it stood on and shattered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Casta slowly close the door once more and turned to a horrified Catra. “Well,” she enunciated slowly, “I think our bedrooms should be fine for tonight. I’ll call someone for that tomorrow morning, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra could only give a small nod in response. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s structurally unsafe. I don’t know why you stayed here overnight, the rest could have come down on you and your daughter. You’re really lucky it didn’t, otherwise you could have been seriously injured, or worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Casta knew she should be paying more attention to whatever the contractor was saying instead of mindlessly nodding along, but she was just so hot that Casta couldn’t pay attention. She had gorgeous tan skin and muscles that rippled with every movement. Her biceps bulged under her gray polo shirt and Casta oogled her neatly defined calves exposed by the plaid shorts the other woman was wearing. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun and left her undercut exposed, which Casta greatly appreciated. She wondered what it would feel like to run her hands through it... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here’s my personal card. Call anytime you want an update.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Casta squinted at the card in her hand, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Juliet</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Is your personal number on your personal card?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliet shot her a curious look. “Well, my number is on my card.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but is it your own number?” Casta insisted. “For...</span>
  <em>
    <span>personal</span>
  </em>
  <span> questions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now the other woman looked downright flummoxed. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking. Any questions you have can be addressed if you call the number on my card.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Casta sighed and was about to explain her true intent when Catra came huffing out of the house, lugging some of her bags and trying to wrestle a straining Melog into his leash. Casta said a quick (and perhaps a little flirtatious) goodbye to the bemused contractor and walked over to help the poor girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smooth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, be quiet you.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>